


When Aidan met Jimmy

by Goldpeaches



Series: The Aidan Show [3]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldpeaches/pseuds/Goldpeaches
Summary: Flashback to December 2009.
Relationships: James Nesbitt/Aidan Turner
Series: The Aidan Show [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/261571
Kudos: 4





	1. The most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, this is not abandoned. I am writing the final part, but it seems like I am the only essential worker in my company and being stressed at work makes me an unhappy writer...

“It was Christmas Eve, Babe, in the drunk tank. An old man said to me, won’t see another one.”

“Aidan, what are you on?”

“Nothin’” 

“And?”

“Christmas spirit,” he says with a huge smile. 

“I think you mean spirits,” Adam corrects and holds out his hand to Aidan. Aidan grabs it and climbs up on top of the large green bin Adam’s sitting on. The plastic lid wobbles and bends under their combined weight, but doesn’t collapse. “Shit, your hands are cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Aidan replies. And even if he was, it’s not like he really cares. He doesn’t care about anything right now and that is the beauty of being high and just drunk enough. He isn’t into drugs, usually. He’s decided a long time ago that he would avoid the stereotype of being a junkie hooker and he’s stuck to that, but the guy who gave him the pill said it was a Christmas gift. It would have been rude not to. Aidan assumed that it was Ecstasy, because it put him in a brilliant mood, even though it’s Christmas Eve and fucking freezing and there isn’t a soul out in the street. 

“Here, put these on,” Adam pulls off his gloves and hands them to Aidan. “You’ll catch your death of cold. And you’re really annoying when you’re sick.”

“Only when I’m sick?” Aidan asks, and removes the gloves again, seconds after putting them on. They don’t feel right, they make him feel like he has gigantic, boiling hot hands. “Oh, hang on, this part is really good.” He makes a shushing gesture and continues his song. “I’ve got a feeling, this year’s for me and you. So Happy Christmas. I love you, Baby. I can see a better time where all our dreams come true.”

He reaches out to cup Adam’s face. Fairytale of New York is Ireland’s Last Christmas. The one song that follows you everywhere during the holiday season, the only difference is that - unlike Last Christmas - it is actually a good song and it makes Aidan miss home terribly.

“That’s sweet, Aidan. You’re butchering it, but the sentiment is sweet.” 

“Come on, sing with me,” Aidan elbows Adam encouragingly. “There’s a gift in it for you.” He pulls a bottle of fruit brandy out of his bag and waves it in front of Adam. “Well, half a gift, anyway.” 

“You’re a bum, you’re a punk,” Adam half-sings at the promise of free booze and even though he skipped a bit of the song Aidan goes with it.

“You’re an old slut on junk. Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed.”

“You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot,” Adam continues the verse, getting a little more into it.

“Shut the fuck up,” someone yells out from one of the windows above, but Aidan only takes it as an incentive to sing louder.

“Happy Christmas you arse, I pray God it’s our last!” He shouts the last part up to the people behind the windows. “Do you think they are happy?” 

“The people in there?” Adam nods towards the brightly lit windows. “I don’t know. I think most of them are lonely and miserable.”

“Why?” Aidan asks. He cannot imagine that anyone’s Christmas is more fucked up than theirs. Sitting out in the cold, selling something no one wants to buy.

“They don’t have an annoying friend, who doesn’t share his drink,” Adam says, shrugging his shoulders. “Go on, open it and save the sentimental rubbish for another time.”

It sounds good to Aidan, so he clumsily remove the bow from the bottle and unscrews the lid.

“Ladies first,” he says, offering the bottle to Adam. He receives a poke in the ribs for it, but Adam still takes it.

“To Our Saviour,” he says, raising the bottle in a sarcastic toast before taking a drink. “God, it’s awful. Where the hell did you get that?”

He hands the bottle back to Aidan. Fruit brandy wouldn’t usually be his first choice, not even his second or third, but there is something sophisticated about drinking brandy for Jesus’ birthday.

“One of my regulars gave it to me. After I blew him. Look, there is even a card.” Aidan pulls it out of his pocket and reads it to Adam. “`We thrived the past year because of your hard work, creativity and dedication. I'm grateful for your tremendous efforts. Wishing you all a joyous Christmas season.´ Isn’t that nice?” 

“I don’t think that’s meant for you. You got a re-gift.” 

“Huh,” Aidan makes and leans his head against Adam’s shoulder. “I don’t see you complaining. And it would’ve been nice, had he written that for me. For us. All of us. If it weren’t for us being out here they would all be sitting at home wanking alone.”

“True,” Adam replies darkly. They continue to sit in silence, drinking their brandy. “Any hot guys lately?”

“Oh, yeah, didn’t you hear? George Clooney stopped by.”

They both snicker at that. Sure some guys are nicer than others, better looking, more generous or more considerate, but the majority are aging, overweight middle-management types, with thinning hair, pit stains in their 99 Pound suits and an attitude that stinks almost as bad as their unwashed cocks. They stop by on their lunch breaks or on their way home, always short-tempered, always in a hurry. So much so that Aidan actually considered having a menu like at McDonald’s. It would make things so much easier. ‘Number three in the car’ or ‘I’ll have the special’ – ‘Would you like a flavoured condom with that?’.

Even worse than the businessmen are the drunks. They come out on the weekends, rude, disrespectful and uncomprehending of the word “no”. If they manage to scrape enough cash together, they barely succeed at getting a hard-on, one out of three will puke, that’s guaranteed, and in the end they blame everyone but themselves for their failure and demand to get their money back. 

“So, what’s George’s cock like? Nice?”

Aidan thinks about that for a moment.

“Nah,” he says finally, concluding that someone good looking and talented doesn’t deserve to have a nice big cock. There needs to be some balance.

“Shame,” Adam relies and is just about to snuggle up against Aidan, when his phone beeps. He reads the message and wordlessly takes the bottle from Aidan. He drinks a few large gulps and makes a protesting noise when Aidan takes it away from him again.

“It’s for your own good,” Aidan explains. It would not end well if he let Adam finish the bottle like that. “You okay?”

Adam doesn’t give a conclusive yes or no answer. Instead, he gives Aidan his phone.   
“Christmas Party. Now. £££.” The message doesn’t seem offensive to Aidan. “Well, that’s nice, isn’t? A party, making some money? Sure beats having to spend Christmas Eve with me.”

“You’re joking, right? If his Halloween Party or his birthday are any indication of what is going to happen, being here with you is pretty much heaven.” 

“Shit, sorry,” Aidan says, feeling truly sorry. He remembers not seeing Adam for a few days after Halloween and when he called him all Adam told him was that he fell down some stairs and needed a few days to rest. “Don’t go then? Tell him you didn’t read the message?”

Adam considers the suggestion but then sighs and shakes his head.

“I can’t afford that,” he says.

There isn’t anything Aidan can think of to say, so they both slide off the bin. Aidan takes another long drink from the bottle and hands it to Adam. 

“Here, you need it more than I do.” He’s had a lot more of it than Adam, anyway. 

“Cheers,” Adam replies with a pitiful half-smile. “Merry Christmas, Aid.”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas.” Aidan squeezes Adam’s shoulder and watches him walk away. He kicks the bin, just to do something that expresses his frustration with the situation and takes off. He wanders around a bit, considering heading back home to spend the evening with his drugged-out flatmate, but that doesn’t sound too appealing, so he walks in the opposite direction of the next tube-station, ironically following a bright star that’s decorating the end of the street. It is bright enough to hurt his eyes, but somehow he can’t look away. It feels right to look at the star, while wishing that things were better for him and Adam. Wishing that they would somehow catch a break, whishing that their luck would change.

The star dances before his eyes and he isn’t sure if it’s the wind or the alcohol or simply his head moving with each step, so he closes his eyes for just a second and suddenly hits something. Something solid that makes him stumble and his eyes fly open again. He is expecting to hit the ground in a painful way in just a second, but the thing he bumped into, the man, he bumped into catches him by the elbow, saving him from that particular embarrassment.

“S’rry, mate,” he mumbles. 

“You good?” the man asks, not letting go of Aidan’s arm yet.

“Yeah,” Aidan replies and moves his arm to signal that the man can let go of him. “Cheers.”

“No problem,” the man responds and steps around Aidan to continue on his way, when it occurs to Aidan that he is out alone on Christmas Eve. He might be looking for company. He pulls the beanie of his head and ruffles his hair. 

“How’s it going?”

“Fine,” the man says

“Hey, where are you headed?”

“Hotel,” the man says. “And I would prefer to get there before this gets cold.” He lifts up a bag of take-away and starts walking. 

“Alone?” Aidan turns around, walking - stumbling - backwards in front of him and unzips his coat. “You don’t have to. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to warm the bed for you? It’s really cold outside.”

“Sorry, kid, I don’t buy off the street.”

“But it’s cold outside,” Aidan repeats.

“I just want to have a quiet evening.”

“But, Baby, it’s cold outside. And I can be really, really quiet if that’s what you’re into. You could stuff my mouth with your cock, shut me up really good.” 

He stumbles over his own feet and he man instinctively grabs his arm again.

“This is illegal,” he replies, although he sounds good-natured. “You know that, right?”

“It’s a grey area, really.” Aidan shrugs his shoulders. Prostitution as such is legal, but soliciting and kerb crawling are not. “But as a concerned citizen it is really your duty to get me off the street.”

“You overestimate my concern,” he says with a smile that is just a little mucky. Enough for Aidan to keep pushing.

“All I want for Christmas is you,” he replies brushing his body against the man’s, who leans in even closer. Close enough to kiss. He pauses.

“Are you a fucking Christmas jukebox?” he asks and pulls away again. “You’re drunk. And you lack skill, I can tell. But you are Irish and… decent looking, so…”

“You won’t regret it, I promise. I swear, I’m even better when I’ve had a few drinks,” Aidan interrupts. “And you can do anything you want with me. Really, whatever you want.”

“So,” the man starts his sentence again, “you can come with me and share my traditional Christmas Tandoori chicken and we’ll see where it goes from there.” His eyes travel over Aidan’s body. “How much?”

“Uhm, twenty?” Aidan suggests, going even lower than his usual price. He really needs this and the thought of getting even a little bit of food as well is too tempting to blow it now by asking for too much. “Fourty bareback.”

The man throws his head back and laughs.

“I meant for the evening.”

“I… uhm…”Aidan shakes his head in confusion. He has no idea how to answer that question. He has never been asked to stick around after his part of the job was done. Considering that most of the time he fucked strangers in loos, cars and alleys, it is probably a good thing.

The man laughs again.

“We’ll work something out.” He holds his hand out to Aidan. “Jimmy.”

Aidan replies with a grin that could light up a Christmas tree by itself and shakes the man’s hand enthusiastically.


	2. It's the happiest season of all

They walk to the hotel with Jimmy talking about the snowfall in Scotland and that he reckons they will wake up to a white Christmas. It is pleasant small talk, that requires nothing from Aidan except for a “hm” or a “uh-huh” on occasion until they reach the hotel. Aidan doesn’t take note of the name but he doesn’t have to, to know that it is posh. He has been to a few hotels before, most of them selling their rooms by the hour and he has been to Clontarf Castle for a wedding many years ago. That was fancy, the way old castles are with their heavy fabrics and gold decorations, but this is different. It’s modern, sleek to the point of almost being cold.

Jimmy greets the receptionist with a nod, which he returns with a polite “good evening, gentlemen” and walks right past the lifts to the bar.

“Evening, Rochika, how are we doing today?”

“Mr. Nesbitt, good to see you again.” Rochika the barkeeper sets down the glass she has been polishing. 

“It’s Jimmy,” he replies. “The other guy’s my father.”

“Oh, you know I can’t help it,” Rochika replies with a smile. “The usual for you today, Sir?”

With his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets Aidan stays in the background. He may be drunk, but he knows that everyone here can tell that he doesn’t belong. Even though there are no ladies fainting and no one is shooing him out with a broom, he feels very much out of place. 

“Can’t see why not. And a cup of coffee for him.” He nods towards Aidan. “Go on, have a seat.”

Aidan climbs on the chair next to Jimmy and has a look around. There are a few couples sitting in armchairs, drinking fancy looking cocktails and he wonders why Jimmy is staying in this hotel alone on Christmas Eve, but he doesn’t dare to ask.

Rochika sets down a little cup of coffee in front of Aidan and a beautiful pint of Guinness in front of Jimmy. He looks at it longingly. It’s been ages since he’s had one and Jimmy doesn’t seem to appreciate it very much. He chats about Rochika’s upcoming wedding and barely even looks at his beer. To distract himself, Aidan makes a big deal out of pouring milk and sugar into his cup.

“I need more sugar,” he announces, even though the two sticks that came with the coffee were plenty. He just wants to say something that isn’t stupid.

“You’re fine. Drink your coffee,” Jimmy replies, barely interrupting his conversation with Rochika. 

Even though he isn’t happy about it, he does as he is told.

“Do you feel better?” Jimmy asks, once Aidan finishes the cup, which surprises him. He thought that Jimmy was ignoring him entirely. Apparently, he was wrong.

“Uh,” Aidan begins. He never actually felt bad. He likes the numb feeling of being drunk. “I feel warmer.”

“That’s something, isn’t it? Let me feel.” He takes Aidan’s hands in his and then brings one of them up to his mouth to give the inside of this wrist a little kiss. “Much better.” 

“You know,” Aidan checks to make sure that Rochika is still away, serving another guest. “My mouth is pretty warm as well.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek to make sure Jimmy gets what he is hinting at.

“Is that so?” Jimmy asks with a grin. “Well, I think it’s time to go upstairs.”

Jimmy finishes his drink and is about to grab the bag of take away when Rochika appears again.

“You surely are not going to eat that, Sir, are you?” she nods towards the bag. 

“I thought I would. Unless you have a better idea?”  
“The chef has created a very special burger today. Turkey with a whiskey glaze. Cheddar sauce, onion rings.” She makes a chef’s kiss motion. “Perfection.”

Aidan has to agree, it sounds perfect and just hearing about it makes him painfully aware of the fact that the last time he ate was yesterday.

Jimmy fixes Rochika with a long stare and then smiles and nods.

“You are good. You could sell salt to a slug, love. All right, two burgers. Chunky chips. One more Guinness.” He takes a look at Aidan. “What the hell, let him have a cheeky pint as well. Have it sent up to the room, would you?”

“Certainly. They’ll be done in about thirty minutes.”

“Make it forty-five,” Jimmy replies. He leaves the take away at the bar and reaches for Aidan’s hand to take him upstairs.

The lift takes them up to the top floor and Aidan’s heart beats faster with every step he takes towards the room. It is terrifying to follow a stranger to his hotel room, but at the same time it is exhilarating. The kind of thrill you can only get on a rollercoaster or with anything that requires bungee cord to be strapped to your legs. 

“Oh wow,” Aidan can’t help but express his surprise upon entering the suite. It is huge and like the lobby, tastefully decorated but not cluttered. Dark navy, grey and white with pops of colour.

A sprawling leather sofa in yellow that is so tacky that it is cool dominates the main room, but nothing can beat the view over the city. He unceremoniously drops his coat onto a chair to walk up to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Jimmy asks, following. He has removed his coat as well and wraps his arms around Aidan from behind.

“Yeah,” Aidan agrees and isn’t quite sure what to do when Jimmy nudges his head to get access to his neck. 

“Relax,” Jimmy mumbles against his skin, obviously noticing Aidan’s hesitation. He tries, it’s just strange to have someone kiss him like this. Especially someone who is paying him for sex, not the other way round. It is nice, though, and he can feel the tension in his shoulders lessen a little bit. He places his hand onto the frame between two panes of glass to steady himself. Even though walking and coffee have helped, he still notices the brandy in his system. Not enough to make him feel sick, just clumsy and he wants to avoid falling over. So, he stands there, allowing Jimmy to kiss and nibble on his neck and continues to gaze out of the window, the Christmas lights all over the city dance in front of his eyes.

This isn’t how it usually works. No one ever really wants to touch him these days and he had forgotten how good it feels. Adam is affectionate with him, sure. They hug and kiss and cuddle, but that is different. Jimmy does not do this because he needs to do it. He wants to do it and that makes a world of difference. 

He turns around and catches Jimmy’s lips with his in a quick kiss. Some men don’t like to be kissed, it’s this whole myth one stupid movie started that fucking and rimming and all that is totally fine, but kissing on the lips is somehow too intimate. Jimmy clearly doesn’t think so. He responds with a proper kiss, a good one. A kiss that involves closed eyes and tongue and Jimmy’s fingers in Aidan’s hair. A kiss that turns into many with a perfect rhythm between soft and breathy one moment and passionate and timeless the next.

It makes the heat rise in Aidan’s cheek and his hand lower. His fingers trail down Jimmy’s chest, down his stomach until he cups Jimmy’s crotch. He is half hard already and growing harder with a little bit of rubbing and more kisses.

He can work with that, Aidan thinks, and sinks down on his knees.

“You’re all business, aren’t you?” Jimmy asks.

“Do you want me to stop?” Aidan pauses unzipping Jimmy’s fly and looks up at him.

“Don’t you dare,” Jimmy replies. “Show me what you can do.”

That is all the encouragement Aidan needs, because that is the one thing he really can do. He can really suck a cock. He can make men beg and whimper and tremble with nothing but his mouth. It may not be something to make your parents proud, but it’s a skill.

Jimmy’s cock feels right in his hand. Hard, good size, clean. The hair recently trimmed. What more could anyone who is enthusiastic about cock ask for? 

He takes his time with Jimmy, licking and kissing up and down his cock and his balls. Every so often he stops and takes him into his mouth, allowing him to slide in all the way and that is when Jimmy makes the most glorious sounds. Moans and whispered fuck yeahs that make Aidan squirm on the floor, imagining how good it would feel to have him fill not just his mouth.

“Go for it,” Jimmy groans when he can’t take the teasing anymore.

Aidan picks up the pace and Jimmy’s fingers grip his hair. He’s going to come. Soon and hard. He is still going to try and pace himself, but he won’t be able to much longer. He won’t be able to stop, Aidan can hear it in his breathing and in the “oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” that’s spilling from his mouth.

“Aidan,” he breathes and his hands tighten painfully hard in Aidan’s hair. He holds his head in place and fucks his mouth with seemingly no control over his actions.

“Room service!”

“Just a sec, I… I’m coming,” Jimmy shouts and he does. He bursts into Aidan’s mouth, not letting go until Aidan has to struggle away from him to keep from choking. He collapses backwards onto his bottom, gasping for air. 

“Fuck me,” Jimmy pants as well and leans against the window. “Get the food, would you?”

“Wha…?” Aidan begins, wanting to raise the very good point that he just worked very hard, and needs to catch his breath. But even with mouth all red and his eyes watery and his nose runny, he is probably still better suited to open the door than Jimmy.

He scrambles to his feet and tries to fix the worst by wiping his face with his sleeve. He stumbles towards the door. It is difficult to walk now that he is not only drunk but ragingly hard.

“Wait,” Jimmy interrupts. “My wallet’s in my coat. Give the guy a tenner. It’s Christmas.”

“I… You sure?” It doesn’t feel right to take a stranger’s wallet at all, but Jimmy nods and makes a shooing notion towards the door.

Aidan gets the wallet and before he opens the door, he combs his hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look a little bit neater, but that is a lost cause on a good day, so he doesn’t have much hope.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Aidan says to the room service guy.

“That’s all right, Sir.” He hands Aidan the receipt to sign.

“Fucking hell,” Aidan whispers to himself when he notices that the meal comes to just over sixty quit.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, sorry, here,” Aidan opens up the wallet and repeats “fucking hell”. There is a lot of cash in it. So much that Aidan, for a second, considers taking the wallet and making a run for it. He pushes the thought aside quickly. Even if he was able to get away, which he probably would, the hotel has security cameras all over and he would be caught eventually. He thumbs through the cash until he finds a ten-pound note and hands it to the guy.

“Thank you, Sir.” The guy replies and makes an attempt to push the cart into the room, but Aidan doesn’t step out of the way. For all he knows, Jimmy is still propped up against the window with his cock out.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says. “If… I mean if that’s okay.” He doesn’t want the guy to get in trouble for not doing his job properly or anything.

“Very well, Sir,” the guy replies. “Have a nice evening.”

“Yeah, you too. Sucks to work on Christmas Eve, doesn’t it?” Aidan asks, wondering instantly why he can’t just shut up for once.

“It’s not so bad,” the guy replies. “The tips are good.” He raises and eyebrow that implies that he knows that Aidan is in the same boat as him. Working, hoping for a tip.

“Yeah,” Aidan shrugs and is uncomfortably aware of the wallet in his hand. He closes the door to find that Jimmy has gone to the bathroom. He could take a couple of notes, no one would know. He could but then he would have broken two of his three rules in one day. Neve take drugs, never steal and always shower and wear fresh clothes. Those are the rules he set up for himself when he came to London, never imagining that something so easy and reasonable would become so difficult to manage.

“So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to run?”

Aidan jumps when Jimmy returns from the bathroom in a fluffy yellow robe. He feels like he’s been caught red-handed, even though he hasn’t done anything. 

“What? No!” He hands Jimmy the wallet who tosses it carelessly onto his coat.

“Good. You wouldn’t want to miss this burger. Oh look, they even gave us free deserts. Nothing beats free desert, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure,” Aidan replies and watches as Jimmy decides where to eat. There is a table with dining chairs, but Jimmy decides to take his plate in his lap and plop down onto the sofa. He switches on the telly and seems pleased to find that some panel show on. He is very, very odd, Aidan decides, but intriguing. He grabs his own plate and sits next to Jimmy.

“Are you not going to finish that?” Jimmy points towards the half-eaten burger on Aidan’s plate. It is a shame that he had to stop himself, because this is the best burger, no, the best food he has ever had in his life. 

“I’ll finish it later on. I have a feeling that your plans for me do not involve me being too stuffed to move.”

“You are a smart man. Smarter than I am,” Jimmy says and leans back with his hands on his stomach, indicating that he probably shouldn’t have finished the burger and the chips either. “I would kill for a smoke right now.”

“That’s fine, I mean, not killing, of course, but smoking.” 

“Nah, I gave it up a while ago.” He pauses. “Unless I can bum one from you.”

“Sure. I mean, I only have the cheap ones…”

“Even better,” Jimmy says cheerfully and gets up from the sofa again. “Come on.”

Aidan grabs the packet from his coat and follows Jimmy. The bedroom has a door that leads to a little balcony. Almost impossibly, the view is even nicer from this side of the building. It overlooks the river with all the boats decorated in lights, dancing gently up and down on the water.

“So, what’s the craic?” Jimmy asks, once they have lit their cigarettes and he has taken a drag. “Is it drugs? Children to support?”

Aidan turns away from Jimmy and rests his arms on the railing, pretending to what to look at the river.

“No,” he says. “None of that.”

“Then why? Why does a guy like you do this?”

“I… uhm,” he shrugs his shoulders and wonders what Jimmy means by “a guy like him”, like thre is something wrong with him. “I want to make money. It sounds really stupid, but that’s it. Honestly.”

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to make money,” Jimmy replies. “You may want to reconsider your approach, though.”

Aidan laughs at that. A humourless sound, because he knows that. All this wasn’t the plan. Back home he worked at a bar and occasionally he would go home with people who paid him. It was easy money. And then one day a guy told him to go to London, because he would make real money there. Only that he didn’t. The agencies didn’t want him, and he wasn’t great at keeping a regular job, because he didn’t care. He didn’t care about flipping burgers and would oversleep for his shifts, he didn’t care about working in a bar again, because then he would be right back where he started. 

“I just need to meet that one guy who makes a difference, you know,” he asks, after explaining all that to Jimmy. “I hope, that, maybe next year something will change or I’ll have to… stop. Go back home and live with my parents, I guess.”

“Why next year?”

“The year’s almost over,” Aidan flicks his cigarette over the railing. “Chances are pretty low.”

Jimmy looks at Aidan for a moment, then laughs and shakes his head in amusement.

“Don’t give up, your luck will change,” he says and Aidan really wants to believe that. “Let’s go back in, it’s freezing.”


End file.
